Senses
by MistyC
Summary: Aragorn suffers through an injury that robs him of sight and hearing, leaving him to fumble alone in the dark, to experience the world through only touch. This was written based on the Middle earth challenge prompt 31: Touch. 2007 MEFA nominee.


Betas: Radbooks, NiRi, and Shell. Thanks, this story would have been quite a bit shorter without your help. 

Summary: Aragorn suffers through an injury that robs him of sight and hearing, leaving him to fumble alone in the dark, to experience the world through only touch. This was written based on the Middle-earth challenge prompt #31: Touch, and should be considered a prompt inspired fic.

Disclaimers: None of the characters are mine, I don't own them or have any rights to them.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aragorn struggled through the dark abyss holding onto him as he fought for wakefulness. His head hurt with a throbbing pain that made him wish it were no longer attached to his body. His ears hurt with a sharp pain like he had never felt before and his eyes felt raw and irritated, as if they had been rubbed with shards of broken glass. He ached all over, and did not know why. What had happened to him? Why couldn't he remember it? Fighting against the pain and lethargy filling his being, he tried to force his eyes open. When all he could perceive was more darkness, questions filled his thoughts. Where was he that he was still in utter darkness? If he were outside, even at night there would be some light, from the moon or the stars. There was nothing like that now. The only way he could be in darkness this absolute was if he were in a cave. Moving his hand out from his side, he felt soft sheets, not the rough cave floor he had expected. Confusion filled his already clouded mind, and he struggled to wake up further to try and make sense of it. Now that he was concentrating, he could feel the soft bed beneath him. If he were somewhere safe, why was he surrounded by darkness?

Deciding to risk the pain, he slowly turned his head to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of light, the flicker of a candle, something to break through this black cloak smothering him. A sense of dizziness nearly overwhelmed him and he abruptly stopped his movement. When he had moved, however, he felt the presence of someone near him, sitting on the edge of the bed next to his legs. Knowing that there was someone nearby nearly panicked him. If there was someone else in the room with him, then there was likely enough light for that person to see, and some other reason why he could not see it. Why couldn't he see? A hand gently touched his face, and he recognized the touch. It was his father. Hopefully, now he could get some answers. "Ada?" As he asked the question, he heard nothing, not even his own voice. Panic now truly had him in its grip. He could neither see nor hear. What was going on? What had happened to him? His breathing quickened, and he felt as if he would once again succumb to unconsciousness.

A hand traced down his cheek soothingly, and another gripped his flailing hand in a firm grasp. The soothing touch helped calm him a little, and he did his best to relax his body back into the bed. A light touch to his forehead seemed to indicate approval. Wincing slightly, Aragorn realized that the skin on his face was very sensitive, it felt slightly burned. Pushing the discomfort aside, he realized that though he could not see or hear, he might still be able to find some answers. Forcing the pain to the back of his mind, he took a deep breath before asking his questions.

"What happened? Why can't I see or hear?" He didn't know how he would be given answers, but he had to hope that Elrond would be able to help him.

The hand grasping his brought his hand up to Aragorn's head and gently traced Aragorn's fingers over a thick bandage around his head. Feeling the bandages covering his eyes, Aragorn worked to still the panic rising in him. The bandages would explain why he couldn't see, but would he be able to see when they were removed? Tracing his hand around his head, he found a very painful bump and drew his hand away with a hiss.

"I was injured?"

Aragorn's hand was drawn upwards now, to rest on the back of Elrond's head. Aragorn felt him nod. At least he could ask yes or no questions and get some answers.

"My eyes were injured?" Another nod, and this time, Elrond took his other hand and tapped once in his palm.

"Will I be able to see again?" Aragorn's heart nearly stopped as Elrond stilled under his hand. After an interminable amount of time, Elrond nodded, but Aragorn could sense his hesitation.

"You're not sure of that, are you?" There was another long hesitation, then Elrond shook his head from side to side, simultaneously tapping a finger twice on Aragorn's hand. Struggling to calm his breathing and concentrate on anything but the thought that he might never see again, Aragorn realized what Elrond was doing by tapping his hand. "One tap for yes, two taps for no?" Another nod, and a single tap in his palm told him he had gotten it right. Taking his hand from Elrond's head, he clasped the hand holding his. "Why can't I hear?"

Elrond gently moved Aragorn's hand up to the bandage covering his head. "The head injury is causing it?" Elrond tapped his hand twice. Aragorn frowned in puzzlement, then rephrased his question. "Were my ears injured at the same time as I received the other injuries?" A single tap this time, and Aragorn swallowed hard before asking the next question. "Do you think I'll be able to hear again?" Elrond tapped his hand once, though it did not feel very certain to Aragorn. Though he did not want to give in to panic, Aragorn could not stop the fear rising in him. Wanting nothing more than to feel his father's arms hold him and chase the fear away as he had done in Aragorn's childhood, he admitted how he felt. "I'm scared, Ada."

Arms reached forward and very gently pulled Aragorn into a sitting position, and then he was held safely in his father's arms. Pressing his head against his father, Aragorn waited many moments for the dizziness caused by his movements to fade. Aragorn shuddered as he gave in to the fear and pain coursing through him, and he clung to his father like he had not since he was much younger. Elrond's hands rubbed gently up and down his back, soothing him. Aragorn's head rested against Elrond's chest, and he could feel the gentle rise and fall with each breath his father took, as well as the steady beat of his heart. There was a vibration that Aragorn realized was Elrond speaking. Though he couldn't hear the words, he was still comforted by the thought that his father was speaking to him, trying to soothe him. A droplet of water landed on the top of his head, and he was struck with the realization that it was a tear. His arms tightened around Elrond at the thought that his father was hurting and scared, just as he was. Here, as he relaxed into the warmth and love surrounding him, Aragorn did not feel so alone. Slowly, he sank back into the world of sleep, and he did not even notice when Elrond laid him back on the bed and sat beside him, holding his hand.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Aragorn awoke, he had a moment of disorientation as he found himself once more in darkness and silence. After a moment, his foggy mind reminded him of his current situation. Remembering the night before, Aragorn swore not to succumb to fear as he had earlier. Though he was terrified of this darkness, he would not let the others see it. A groan escaped him as the pain in his head, eyes and ears once more made themselves known to him. Muttering a soft curse in his head, Aragorn reached out and felt around him, finding no one nearby. A frown crossed his face at the thought that they would leave him alone while he was still so…helpless. His frown deepened at the word his mind supplied. He hated feeling helpless, but at the moment, no better word applied.

Placing his hands on the mattress, he gingerly pushed himself up into a sitting position, holding his hands to his head as he was once again assailed by overwhelming dizziness. How long would he be bothered by this? He could not change positions without feeling this horribly disconcerting sensation. A hand touched his shoulder, and he nearly jumped at the unexpectedness of it. The hand rubbed lightly up and down his arm in apology, and the bed dipped slightly as the person sat on the bed beside him.

Taking a deep breath, Aragorn tried to calm his nerves. "Forgive me, I did not know you were there." A squeeze of his shoulder was the response. Though he did not want to admit how badly he was hurting, he knew that it was the only way he would be able to find any relief. "My injuries pain me greatly. Much as I hate the taste, I will admit that I am in need of some willow bark tea." The hand squeezed his shoulder again and he felt a movement beside him as the person stood and moved away. Aragorn bent his legs upward and leaned forward to rest his head against his knees, holding his head in his hands as if to keep it from falling off. When the bed dipped again, indicating the return of whoever was in his room, it took many minutes for him to raise his head again. A warm cup was placed in his hands, and it was guided and steadied as Aragorn brought it to his lips to drink. As expected, the tea tasted awful, but did the job it was made to do. Aragorn rested his head back on his knees as he waited for the pain to subside. Finally, he felt well enough to raise his head once more. Throughout it all, a hand rubbed soothingly over his back, letting him know that he was not alone.

As the smell of a rich stew reached his nose, Aragorn realized that he was quite hungry. Putting his remaining pain aside, he tried to pretend he felt better than he did. "Is that stew for me, I hope?" The hand reached down to take his, and tapped once in his palm. "Good," Aragorn said, reaching out with his free hand for the bowl. A double tap in his hand stopped his movement. "Am I not allowed to eat?" Aragorn asked. The person beside him held Aragorn's hands out, palm up, and then placed the bowl in one hand, and a spoon in the other. Aragorn had never thought about how difficult it would be to eat when he could not see, but he quickly found out just how tricky it could be. The person beside him helped him guide the spoon to his mouth so that he would not spill, until Aragorn had gained more confidence. Once the stew was gone, the hand reached out with a wet cloth and gently wiped his face clean. Aragorn grimaced at that, it only reinforced his feelings of helplessness. He quickly forced an impassive expression onto his face, not wanting to burden whoever was helping him with his own feelings of inadequacy. A glass full of cool water was placed in his hands, and after placing the tip of his finger over the brim of the glass to determine how close it was to the mouth of the glass, he drank his fill of the refreshing liquid before handing it back to the one helping him.

Reaching out, Aragorn grasped the hand resting on his arm and traced his fingers over its contours. They felt different than Elrond's hands, though they seemed quite familiar. "You're not Ada, are you?" Two taps in his other hand confirmed it. "Who are you?" Aragorn's hand was guided to something metallic. Allowing his fingers to gently trace over the object, Aragorn recognized the broach that Elladan and Elrohir wore almost constantly. They had been gifts from their mother, so at least he knew one of his brothers was with him. While both of his brothers were gentle with him, especially when he was injured, the patience being exhibited made him think this was the younger of the twins. "Elrohir?"

A single tap to his hand made him smile. "Thank you." An uncomfortable sensation made him remember that it had been a while since he had last been able to relieve himself. "El?" He forced his embarrassment aside. "I think I need a chamberpot and some privacy." He could tell his cheeks were red, and he did his best to keep his voice low, hoping he had not said that too loudly.

Elrohir squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring touch and then he stepped away for a time. When he returned, he guided Aragorn's hand to a screen that had been pulled around his bed to show him that he had his privacy. He then guided Aragorn's hand to a basin. His hand rested on Aragorn's for a moment, seemingly asking if he needed help. Aragorn shook his head, regretting it the moment the dizziness came back. "I can manage, thank you." The hand retreated, and Aragorn waited for several moments to give Elrohir time to leave him alone. It was not as difficult as Aragorn had feared to do what he needed to, as long as he moved slowly to combat the disorientation engendered every time he moved. He was soon back in bed, the chamberpot on the floor. "You can come back now," he said, pleased that he had not needed help. It was a small thing, but at least he could manage the most embarrassing tasks on his own.

Elrohir brought him a wet cloth so that he could wash his hands, and after that, Aragorn could not think of anything else to do. Normally, if he were stuck in the healing ward, he would converse with his brothers, or convince them to play a game of strategy with him, or even just sit in silence and read a book. None of those options were open to him now. Though he could ask yes or no questions, that would hardly allow for a reasonable conversation, and he was completely unable to read or play any games, now that he could not see. And at this point, the pain was still too strong for him to feel like attempting anything beyond lying still, anyway. He finally slouched back down in his bed, rolled over on his side and simply tried to sleep, hoping that it would be a way to help the time pass more quickly.

The warmth of a hand hovered over his shoulder for several minutes, but never came to rest upon him. Aragorn knew that Elrohir wanted to do something to comfort him, but did not know how, and frankly, Aragorn was in no mood to accept comfort just now. As he lay there in the dark for an indefinite length of time, his thoughts whirled crazily through his head. What had happened to him to cause these injuries? As he wracked his brain, trying to remember, bits and pieces came back to him. A loud sound, a flash of light, but it was all jumbled and distorted. He could not make sense of it and turned his mind to other questions. Was there a chance that he would not recover his sight and hearing? How could he live his life if that were so? If he were blind and deaf, he could not return as Chieftain of the Dúnedain, he could never again ride into battle, and the citizens of Minas Tirith would never accept his claim to the throne. If he did not recover from this, his life would be effectively over. It was a very long time before his mind quieted enough to allow sleep.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day passed in much the same way as the first, being locked in a place of solitude, no sound, no sight, constantly battling debilitating dizziness and the pain wracking his head. He spent a great deal of time trying to remember what had happened, and as more flashes came to him, he gradually pieced the story together. It was while he was visiting the Dúnedain village of Barvagor, a day and a half's ride west, when Gandalf had stopped by as well. The children had begged for a show of Gandalf's fireworks, and the wizard had been only too happy to oblige. That much, he could remember, but things got a little fuzzier after that. If he could trust the flashes of memory that came to him, a child had ventured too near the pile of fireworks with a torch and tripped, lighting the cart that the fireworks rested in. Knowing the explosive potential of Gandalf's fireworks, Aragorn had rushed forward and grabbed up the child, throwing her to the nearest adult. After that, he could remember little beyond a bright flash and a loud noise. But he could fill in the gaps of his memory easily enough.

He must have been too close to Gandalf's cart when the fireworks went off. Depending on how the blast caught him, his eyes and ears could easily have been damaged, perhaps quite severely, by such a thing. Being caught up in the blast would explain all the injuries he had, as well as the burned feeling on his face and the bump on his head from when he had hit the ground. As for how he had come to be in Imladris, surely Gandalf had raced as quickly as possible to deliver him to Elrond. If he had remained unconscious the full trip here, then he likely also had a concussion, which would explain the disorientation and difficulty in remembering what had happened to him. After figuring out the cause of his injuries, he worried more than ever that his injuries would not heal completely. His worry caused him to turn inward, away from those who would help him.

As the next few days passed, the pain from his injuries and the dizziness that frequently assailed him began to fade. The only contact he had with people was a touch upon his shoulder, someone helping him to eat and drink, or helping him with other simple tasks. His conversations were limited to what few questions he felt like asking, and the tapping in his palm that were the only answers he could receive. Before long, he no longer wanted to ask questions, and drifted into the same silence that was his world. He could feel the concern of those around him like a weight upon his shoulders, pressing him down deeper into his own world. Though he knew his withdrawal worried the others, he simply could not find it in himself to care. He slept a great deal of time, or as much of the time as he was able. His thoughts and fears kept his mind whirling even as he tried to sleep, so he often feigned sleep, hoping the others would leave him alone, though he knew he was not fooling them.

His day was measured out by his mealtimes, and those were the only indication he had as to how much time had passed. He did not ask how long he had been there because he did not want to know how much longer it would be before they attempted to remove the bandages and he would find out if the darkness and silence were permanent.

On the fifth day since his initial awakening, things changed. Aragorn had felt the concern of those who sat with him like an immense blanket, smothering him beneath its weight. Though he did not want to cause his family pain, he could not bring himself to do anything to alleviate it, such was the depth of his own pain and fear. On this day, however, after he finished his meal and started to lie back down in his bed to try to escape this never-ending silence in sleep, a hand rested firmly on his shoulder, preventing him from his escape.

"What?" he asked. "Why do you keep me from my rest?" He did not expect an answer beyond a comforting touch. Though he knew his father's touch, he had not even bothered to try to figure out who it was sitting beside him after that first day. It had not seemed worth the effort. Whoever was with him today took Aragorn's hand in theirs and gently traced a shape on his palm. Aragorn's brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what this was about. "What are you doing?" he asked, his curiosity making itself known for the first time in days.

A hand reached up and lightly tapped his temple once, then went back to tracing a shape in his hand. The same shape was drawn repeatedly, and Aragorn finally realized that he was supposed to know what the shape was. As he concentrated, he could visualize a hand with a quill tracing the same shape and he suddenly recognized what it was. The person with him was drawing a letter in his hand! Aragorn nodded. "I see what you are doing." He sounded out each letter as it was drawn in his hand, though it took several repetitions of each before he could make most of them out. When he reached the end of a word, the person would lay his hand flat upon Aragorn's to signal him that a new word would be beginning. He did not know how long it took him to make out the three words that the other wanted him to know, but when he put them together, he had the phrase 'too much sleep'.

Aragorn flushed, sensing a rebuke in those words. "What else would you have me do? I can do little else right now."

Concentrating again on the finger tracing out letters in the palm of his hand, Aragorn eventually made out the words 'talk, move, live'.

"Do you consider this talking?" Aragorn asked hotly. "And where would you like me to move to? I doubt I could take more than a few steps without falling flat on my face. If you will remember, I cannot see a thing!"

The hand patiently drew out the words 'count steps'. A hand gently tugged at his arm, drawing him from his bed and to his feet. Aragorn swayed slightly, as he had not been on his feet much since his arrival here. He brought a hand to his head as he fought the residual queasiness caused by his attempt to stand. The hand supported him, holding firmly onto his arm to help him find his balance.

"You must be Elladan," Aragorn muttered as he stood there. "I'd recognize that stubbornness anywhere." A tap in his palm confirmed his guess. Elladan again drew the words 'count steps' in his palm before tugging him gently forward. Beginning to count aloud as Elladan guided him through the room, Aragorn gave in, knowing his brother would not give up and leave him alone.

For what seemed like hours to Aragorn, Elladan led him around the room, counting steps to the dresser, the balcony, the doorway, the bathing chamber and the various items of furniture in the room. Though Aragorn had spent almost all of his childhood in this room, it seemed entirely foreign to him now. He stumbled several times, and bumped into more than one piece of furniture. However, Elladan never let him fall, keeping a firm grasp on his arm and guiding him carefully through the room. When Elladan was satisfied, he allowed Aragorn to make his way back to his bed. "Are we done?" Aragorn asked, wearier than he should have been from simply walking around his room.

A tap in his hand signaled that they were done. Further writing in his hand clarified the matter. 'For now.'

A sigh escaped Aragorn as he lay back in the bed. He did not want to think about doing this again too soon. All he really wished to do was sleep the time away until he was fully healed again. '**If** I'm ever fully healed again,' the thought drifted through his mind, and he was unable to counter it.

His evening meal was brought in to him, and though he could smell it, it was not brought to his bedside. A hand gently grasped his elbow and a slight constant pressure made it clear that he was supposed to stand up. Feeling a greater level of patience in the touch, he knew it was not Elladan helping him. "Elrohir?" A tap in his hand told him that he had guessed correctly. As he stood, Elrohir guided him slowly over to the table that Aragorn had bumped into earlier. Reaching out, Aragorn felt the position of the table and the chair, gently pulling the chair out and seating himself. Elrohir guided his hands to the table, showing him where the plate of food and his glass were located. Though it took a much longer time than it should have, and some assistance from his brother, Aragorn was able to eat his fill.

Once the meal was done, Aragorn sat back in his chair and turned his head in the direction of his brother's chair. He had felt Elrohir bump the table when he sat down earlier, and knew he had not gotten up to leave the table since then. "Do you have anything else planned for this evening?" Aragorn left his hand on the table, palm up, knowing that was the only way they could communicate.

Elrohir tapped his palm once. Aragorn suppressed a sigh. So, he was not to be allowed to retire for the evening yet. "May I ask what it is that you think I need to do?"

Feeling Elrohir tap his hand twice, Aragorn frowned at him. "Am I supposed to guess?" Another double tap left Aragorn rather confused. Feeling Elrohir get up from the table and come to stand at his side, Aragorn stood up from his chair as well. As his brother took his elbow and turned him away from the table, Aragorn decided not to fight or question. He would find out what Elrohir planned when El wanted him to know. Counting his steps to himself, and picturing the room in his mind, Aragorn realized they were heading for the balcony. Not sure quite why they were going to the balcony, he kept quiet and let Elrohir guide him over to a bench along the wall. After helping Aragorn to sit, Elrohir sat down beside him.

As he sat down, he felt the cool touch of the stone bench under his legs. The evening had cooled from the heat of the day, but not unpleasantly. Leaning back against the wall, Aragorn allowed himself to take a deep breath of the evening air. The scent of the Moonflowers on their vines drifted on the gentle breeze. The large white blossoms unfurled in the early evening and brought a sense of peace to him every time he chose to relax on his balcony of an evening. A small smile crossed his face. There was a fresh, moisture rich smell to the air, as well, one that indicated rain. "Has it rained today?" he asked his brother.

A tap to his hand indicated that yes, it had rained. Aragorn nodded. "I thought so, I could smell it on the air." As he inhaled the fresh, fragrant air, Aragorn could feel himself beginning to relax, his worries and tensions draining slowly away. He could feel the warmth from Elrohir's body as they sat shoulder to shoulder, simply enjoying the evening. Aragorn felt Elrohir take his hand and place an object in it. Tracing his fingers over the curved, smooth wooden surface, Aragorn quickly realized what it was he now held. "My pipe," he exclaimed in delight. "Thank you, 'Ro." His fingers probed the bowl of the pipe to find that it was empty. A pouch was slipped into his hand, leaving him to go through the familiar comforting routine of filling his pipe and tamping down the pipeweed. Once he had the amount he wanted, he held the pipe out to Elrohir and asked him to light it. When his brother tapped his hand to tell him that it was lit, he brought the stem to his lips and drew in a deep breath, holding the smoke in his lungs before letting it trail out past his lips. They sat for a long time, relaxing in each other's presence as Aragorn smoked his pipe. It was some time before he realized that Elrohir was not moving away as he usually did whenever Aragorn brought out his pipe. Like most elves, Elrohir did not enjoy being nearby when someone was smoking a pipe. His brother must have chosen to stay next to him only because he did not wish Aragorn to think he was leaving him alone.

"You do not need to remain so close if the smoke bothers you," Aragorn said.

A hand gently held his as a finger traced out the words, 'I will stay'.

Tilting his head toward Elrohir, Aragorn replied from the heart. "Thank you for this, 'Ro."

'You are welcome, my brother.' It took longer for Elrohir to write those words, but Aragorn was more than willing to wait to decipher those words. It was more communication than he had received in some time.

Aragorn dumped the remaining pipeweed out so he would not bother Elrohir with it, then simply sat on the bench with Elrohir at his side, enjoying the evening air. How long they remained, Aragorn did not know, but when Elrohir finally led Aragorn back to his bed chambers, Aragorn felt a sense of calm that had been sorely lacking since he had awoken here in darkness and silence.

-----

The next morning, Aragorn awoke and could not sense anyone within his bedroom. Deciding that it was time he began to take charge of his life again, he sat up and carefully placed his feet on the floor. Amazingly enough, he felt fine, no dizziness assailing him this day. Taking a deep breath, he stood up before taking a single step away from the safety of his bed. Counting each careful step, he made his way over to the bathing chamber and took care of his morning ablutions. Once finished, he found his way back to his bed, and decided he did not wish to remain in his bed this day. Making his way slowly and carefully out to his balcony, he walked over to the edge of the balcony, grasping the railing in his hand. Tilting his head upward, he could feel the warmth of the sun caressing his face, the wind blowing lightly through his hair, and the grain of the wood beneath his hands. It did seem like a glorious morning in Imladris, the air fresh and clean after the rain of the night before.

Feeling the warmth of a body stepping close, Aragorn turned his head toward his visitor as a hand came to rest on his shoulder. "Good morning," Aragorn said, turning to more fully face his visitor. "Is it time to eat already?" A hand reached up to gently take his hand and tap once in his palm. Recognizing the touch, Aragorn inclined his head. "Thank you, Ada."

Elrond began tracing words in his palm, and Aragorn concentrated until he made out the words 'How do you feel today?'

Smiling in Elrond's direction, Aragorn replied, "Much better, Ada."

Taking his elbow in a light hold, Elrond walked with Aragorn to the table and helped him locate the food and drink on the table. With only a few minor mishaps, Aragorn was able to eat his meal without requiring help even once. His only problem was that he accidentally put his fingers in his food more than once. Using a cloth to wipe his fingers clean each time was all that needed to be done to remedy the mistake.

Once he was finished, Aragorn sat back from the table and wiped his mouth before laying the cloth back upon the table. As he opened his mouth to ask a question of his father, he stopped suddenly and abruptly closed his mouth, tilting his head to the side in puzzlement. He had heard something, at least he thought he had. It was not a sound that would have been likely to occur in his room, but he was sure that there was something there that had not been there before. It was…a loud buzzing sound was the only way he could think to describe it. Yes, there it was again. Now that he focused on it, it seemed to grow even louder. This time, it stayed long enough that Aragorn did not think it was going to go away.

Aragorn brought his hands up to his ears and covered them, seeing if that would make a difference to the sound. If anything, it only made the sound louder. The sound was coming from inside his ears then, and he was not hearing anything from the outside room. That was a disappointment, but was it a good sign that he was hearing anything, even if it came only from within his head? So lost was he in trying to determine the source of the sound that he had not even felt the hand of his father upon his shoulder. It was only when Elrond reached out and pulled Aragorn's hand away from his ear that he even remembered his father was in the room.

'What?' Elrond wrote the word in Aragorn's hand, and Aragorn could feel the urgency he felt in the short one word query.

"A buzzing," Aragorn answered his father. "I hear a loud buzzing in my ears that was not there before. It is constant now, though the volume rises and decreases. What does this mean?"

Elrond gently tugged on Aragorn's elbow and led him over to sit on the edge of his bed. 'Wait,' he drew on Aragorn's hand. Aragorn sat on the bed for several minutes before his father returned. A touch on his shoulder alerted him to the fact that his father had returned. His hand gently turned Aragorn's head to the side, then Aragorn could feel him looking into his ear, examining him to determine what this buzzing might mean. Once he finished with one ear, he turned Aragorn's head to the other side, and examined his other ear.

When Elrond finished his exam, Aragorn could not wait to learn what he had seen. "What is it? What is happening?"

Taking his hand once more, Elrond gently traced out the word 'healing'.

"I am healing?" Aragorn asked eagerly. "I will get my hearing back?"

His heart leapt in joy at the next words Elrond traced on his palm. 'Yes. Slowly, but yes.'

Reaching out, he pulled Elrond into a hug. "Thank you, Ada. That is the best news you could have given me today."

Elrond held Aragorn's head against his shoulder, and Aragorn could feel the vibrations as Elrond spoke, then he pulled back and traced the words out on his palm so Aragorn would know what he had said. 'For me, too.' Aragorn smiled at his father as they drew back from each other. This news brightened Aragorn's spirit more even than his time out on the balcony had, and he finally began to hope that he would heal from his injuries and be able to go back to his life. That hope would keep him going until the day his bandages were removed and he knew whether or not he would be able to see. His hearing was beginning to return, surely he would be able to see again as well.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Several days later, Aragorn was beginning to wish that the buzzing had never started. Though it was a good sign, it was driving him slowly crazy, and causing massive headaches. The noise never stopped, his new constant presence, never abating or giving him a rest from it. It made sleeping difficult, and he was getting rather 'cranky' as Elladan wrote in his hand one day. He had snapped at Elladan then, but then immediately apologized. It was not Elladan's fault that the noise was driving him out of his mind. Elrond had been giving him teas to help with the headaches, but since he could not escape the noise that was causing the headaches, they did little good. It was all he could do to find peace now, even on his balcony. Though he _was_ getting rather skilled at finding his way around his room now, even without his sight. He had taken up pacing the length of his room, in a futile effort to burn off some of his irritation.

In an attempt to find some peace, he strode out onto his balcony early in the evening, hoping the scents and sensations of Imladris in the evening would quell his restlessness. Reaching out and tracing a leaf of the moonflower vine, he concentrated on the feel of the leaf between his fingers and the scent of the flower as it slowly opened. During his convalescence, it had been here, on his balcony, where he had felt the most peace. And it was here that he first heard the sound of a bird, calling out to another as it sat in a nearby tree. He stopped stock still and tilted his head in the direction of the call, hoping to hear that sharp clear note ring out once more in the evening air. For the longest time, he heard nothing beyond that annoying buzzing ringing constantly in his ears. But then, he heard it again. It was muffled, as if coming through layers of blankets wrapped around his ears, but he had heard it. A smile spread across his face and he lowered his head, focusing intently on the sound of that birdcall.

He was focused so intently that he did not notice when someone stepped out onto his balcony. Over the many days of his time here, he had become quite adept at knowing when he had company in his room, and even though he could not see nor hear them, it was getting rarer for an elf to be able to approach him unawares. This time, however, he jumped when he felt a hand rest lightly on his shoulder. "Can you hear that bird?" he asked, not caring just yet who it was that had joined him.

The hand upon his shoulder tightened, indicating surprise. A low murmur reached Aragorn's ears, but it was muffled so badly that Aragorn could not make out the words. He extended his hand toward the other. "I did not hear you clearly. Not yet."

The words, 'Did you hear?' were traced in his palm.

A smile crossed his face as he turned and faced his brother. "Yes, Elrohir. I heard a bird call earlier. I think I heard your voice, but it was not clear enough to make out your words. But I did hear something. I am getting better, 'Ro."

His brother grabbed him in a sudden hug, making Aragorn laugh in surprise as he was pulled forward. Unsure if it was his imagination, he thought he heard his brother's light laugh in response.

------

Over the next few days, his hearing began to become clearer. While he could hear most things, voices were still more difficult for him to discern. Even a week after his hearing began coming back, he could tell when someone was speaking to him, but only with a great deal of concentration could he make out what they were saying. It was still easier for him to carry on a conversation if someone drew out the words in his hand. Frequent exams by Elrond assured him that he was healing quite well, it would merely take time for his hearing to return completely. Aragorn went back and forth between the highs of hearing something new, and the lows of getting so frustrated at not being able to understand what people were saying to him. He was frequently ill-tempered, but found himself apologizing nearly instantly, trying not to irritate his family too badly. Knowing they understood his frustration and would forgive him was no excuse for lashing out at them. His family had been more patient and understanding than he had any right to expect.

-------------

After another few days, his hearing had recovered to the point that he was able to make out most of the words when someone was speaking to him, and he was able to carry on a complete conversation, much to his, and his family's, great relief. Sitting on his balcony with his father one evening, Aragorn broached the subject of his injuries.

"I remember the accident that caused my injuries, but I did not know their extent. While my ears are obviously healing, can you tell me how badly my eyes are injured?"

A sigh escaped Elrond, and he placed a hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "When Gandalf brought you to me, I feared for your ability to recover. You had been insensate from the moment of the explosion, a full day and a half prior to your arrival here. Your face was reddened, burned by the heat, and Gandalf had already applied bandages over your eyes. Gandalf only had time to deliver you to me before he had to leave on other urgent business, but I know he wished to stay long enough to see that you would be well." Elrond reassured Aragorn that Gandalf had not wanted to simply leave without being sure of Aragorn's well being. Taking a deep breath, Elrond went on with his explanation. "Gandalf told me that you had been bleeding from both ears. Your ears were still continuing to drain fluid, and those were both signs of damage deep within your ears. It was this damage causing the deafness that you are finally recovering from. I am very grateful that your ears appear to be healing so well. It will yet be some time before your hearing is as it was, but you are recovering quite well."

"And my eyes?" Aragorn asked softly. This was important information, to be sure, but it was his eyes that concerned him the most.

"Your eyes were badly injured, but not as severely as they could have been. Debris from the explosion had scratched your eyes quite seriously, and they were also affected by the heat." Elrond squeezed Aragorn's shoulder. "The injuries were not serious enough to need stitches, but your eyes were cut quite badly. There is a possibility of scarring, and if that should happen, your vision could be affected more permanently." Elrond did not wish to tell Aragorn this, but knew his son needed to know what he could be facing.

Bowing his head momentarily, Aragorn at least took comfort in the fact that Elrond had not mentioned the possibility of his being permanently blind. He was afraid that the chance still existed, but he knew that Elrond did not want to frighten him further. Nodding, he raised his head and turned the conversation to more pleasant topics, not wanting to dwell on the topic of his injuries when he was still living in his ever present darkness.

-----------------------------

Aragorn had been venturing further afield than simply his room as his hearing recovered, and could now find his way through most of the rooms of the house and even into the gardens without aid. He felt that was quite an accomplishment, since the bandages had yet to be removed from his eyes. It was as he sat in the garden, reveling in being able to hear the gurgle of the fountain, the birds calling back and forth to each other, and the occasional murmuring voices of elves elsewhere in the garden that Elrond approached him.

"Good day, Aragorn," he said as he took a seat next to his son.

"Good day, Ada," he replied, smiling over to where his father sat. "This is a very beautiful day, is it not?"

"Would you care to see it for yourself?" Elrond asked him lightly.

Aragorn's breath caught in his throat. "Is it time to remove the bandages?" He had never been told exactly how long he would have to keep his eyes covered, as Elrond had not wanted him getting too anxious about it. Now that the day was here, his heart pounded in his chest. What if the injury to his eyes had not healed as well as his ears? What if the bandages were removed and he still could not see?

Elrond sensed his sudden anxiety, and covered Aragorn's hand with his own. "It will be well, Aragorn. If you will accompany me back into the house, we will see how well your eyes have healed. Your brothers are waiting for us. You will not face this alone, whatever we discover."

Aragorn bowed his head and took a deep breath. "Then let us do this." He stood and waited for Elrond to take his elbow and lead him to the room he had prepared. He was silent as he was led to one of the healing rooms and took the seat Elrond indicated. Elladan sat beside him on one side and Elrohir on the other, their hands on his shoulders, supporting him. Elrond began unwinding the bandages around Aragorn's head and instructed him to keep his eyes closed until he asked Aragorn to open them. Finally the bandages were gone, and the soft cloths over his eyes removed. Aragorn felt the fresh air on his eyelids for the first time in a long time.

Placing his hands over Aragorn's eyes, Elrond spoke, "Please open your eyes now, Aragorn."

Aragorn kept his eyes closed for several long moments, not able to bear the thought of what he might see, or not see, when he did. Finally working up the courage, he slowly lifted his eyelids. Elrond slowly pulled his hands away from Aragorn's eyes. Though Elrond had darkened the room, the low light that streamed into his eyes stabbed deep, causing him pain as his long darkness was finally shattered. Squeezing his eyes shut against the light, tears streamed down his face.

"Aragorn?" Elladan asked, fear clear in his voice. "Did you see anything?" He was worried that Aragorn had opened his eyes, seen only darkness, and given into tears in his despair.

"The light," Aragorn said shortly, the tears of pain still streaming from his eyes. "It's too bright."

"Light?" Elrohir asked excitedly. "You saw light?"

Nodding, Aragorn brought his hands to his eyes, only to have Elrond gently grab his hands. "Please do not touch your eyes. Not until I have a chance to see them. I need you to open them again for me. Slowly, so that you can get adjusted to the light."

Slowly cracking his eyes open, Aragorn fought not to close them again and tried to allow his eyes to adjust to the low light. It was many minutes before he was able to open his eyes fully, and for the longest time, all he could see was the light, though as his eyes adjusted, shadows and movement became visible.

"What can you see?" Elrond asked, moving to stand in front of his son, staring into his eyes.

"I can see a shape, Ada. I cannot see you clearly, but I do think I can see you. But everything is still unfocused, I cannot make out the features of your face." His voice was wary, afraid of saying that he could see when things were still so unclear, but not wanting to dash their hopes.

Elladan and Elrohir put their arms around him and hugged him from either side. Aragorn was not sure if they were comforting him or congratulating him. This was not the full recovery he had hoped for, but neither was it the world of darkness he had feared. Elrond stepped closer and leaned in to examine Aragorn's eyes. Passing a candle in front of Aragorn, he watched how they reacted to the light, and nodded in pleasure. If his eyes were not fully healed yet, they soon would be. There was nothing here to indicate permanent damage.

Placing his hand on Aragorn's head, he smiled down at all three of his sons. "Your eyes will recover fully, Aragorn. It may still take some time, but you will recover completely. This I swear to you."

This time, when Aragorn's eyes filled with tears, they were tears of relief. His father would never make such a promise unless he was absolutely sure. "Thank you, Ada," he said, his voice hoarse in his emotion. His brothers hugged him again, and this time, he knew it was in congratulations.

Over the next few days, Aragorn had to avoid going outdoors during the day to spare his eyes. Though it happened more slowly than he would have liked, his sight began to return to what it had been before. His balcony in the evening became his refuge, the place he could go to see the world around him. No longer could he only smell and touch the moonflowers, he could also see the delicate white blossoms as they opened in the evening air. His family knew they could always find him there, or wandering the paths in the gardens, taking in the sights around him, appreciating them as never before.

It was not long before he had recovered completely. His father asked him to remain in Imladris for at least a month after his sight had returned so that he could more closely monitor his condition, but finally pronounced him ready to return to the Rangers.

Not quite ready to let Aragorn out of their sight after the latest scare, Elladan and Elrohir chose to escort him back to the Dúnedain. They wanted to see for themselves that Aragorn had truly healed well enough to allow him to survive on his own again. During the journey, Aragorn demonstrated that he had healed well beyond their expectations. His skill in tracking had been greatly enhanced by the lessons he had learned while being blind and deaf. He had learned to rely as much on touch and scent as he did on his sight, and his skills were greater now than they had ever been. With all of his senses working in concert, his abilities were unmatched, and the twins were greatly relieved to see it. After seeing him safely back to his people, they left with their hearts light and smiles on their faces. Their little brother was healed and whole again.


End file.
